As Much as You Lead
by VictoriaHarperGrayson
Summary: A take of both Conrad and Victoria's feelings regarding their complicated relationship. Was a one shot, but decided to continue! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Song: "As Much as You Lead" - by Lex Land.

Hope you like it. Enjoy!

* * *

_Well, I always get my hopes up a palm's length too high  
With every step I get closer, I'm still stuck one step behind_  
Yeah, but we're just too good at never getting our timing right  
So for now, I'll have to keep putting my loving on standby

It was a ridiculous notion, but a part of Conrad Grayson always hoped he'd someday win Victoria's heart back. Did he believe that it was actually possible? Considering how it's been nearly nineteen years since David's arrest combined with the fact that Victoria continued to mourn his death, he felt deep down in his heart that it wasn't going to be so easy. By now, he was even willing to admit to himself that it was damn near impossible. To this day, he wondered where he went wrong in their relationship for his wife to end up in another man's bed in the first place. He was a hard worker and so he knew he wasn't always able to be there, but he honestly tried his best. His family taught him that work was a number one priority and even so, he managed to be a good father to the son he shared with Victoria, and he used to assume that he was a great husband. Admittedly, he must have been wrong, but did that mean he didn't deserve to finally be happy with his wife? Was there the slightest chance that she would want to be happy with him?

David was permanently out of the picture and so, what, was Victoria planning on being miserable for the rest of her life? She failed to fake her own death and went through with a second marriage. It wasn't her original plan to return, but she had, and now they should meet each other halfway and make the best of it. They fought like dogs most of the time and who to say that wasn't because they were in love? Perhaps that was the best way they knew to express their passion?

Sitting back in his chair behind his desk of his dim-lit office, Conrad let out a sigh, then took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. Things weren't as gray as he hoped. Victoria returned because she was scared of herself and Charlotte getting killed. She didn't trust him with the child she created with David Clarke and quite frankly, he deserved it after the stunt he pulled. Charlotte still continued to distance herself from him since he not only stole her inheritance, but faked her results on a drug test to have her locked up. Did he know it was wrong? Absolutely, but it wasn't easy for him to deal with the pain of finding out that Charlotte wasn't his. Not only did it kill him simply because he adored her since the day she was born, but because looking at her was now a constant reminder of the man Victoria would have easily chosen over him. There was so much anger and hurt and he knew he always handled it in the wrong way. When he felt threatened, he needed to one up the opposing side. Such a habit drove a wedge between himself and Victoria more so than the distance they already suffered. He wished he could find the strength to better himself, at least for the sake of his family. For the sake of Victoria.

Getting up on his feet, he took a moment to steady himself, thoughts of ways to rid themselves of the wedge and have Victoria back as his own filled his mind. Somedays, she used his relationship with Lydia as a means of arguing, but he only kept it going so long because of David Clarke. He had a lot of making up to do and told himself that even if he failed, he would give his best effort at redeeming himself. And so with another sip of the liquor, he carried the bottle with him on his way out and toward the stairs. He wasn't drunk, but he had enough to know that he should walk carefully, and so he took his time, also to figure out what to say. Normally he and Victoria couldn't find a damn good thing to say about one another and if he walked up there and poured his heart out, he knew she would laugh in his face and ask what his motive was. Such a thing kept him from speaking up for years on end.

_'Cause as much as you lead, you know that I'll follow  
If today you come running, I know that tomorrow,  
You could walk away from me in a second flat  
But if I ever left you, I'd always come back  
'Cause I'm that kind of woman, and you're that kind of man_

Taking back the remainder of the wine, Victoria Grayson let out a small and pathetic sigh. She sat on her bed with tears in her eyes - grateful for the chance to be alone so she could allow her emotions to be expressed. So rarely was she able to cry, because nobody was allowed to see her during her weakest moments. When a person got to know your faults, they would without fail use them against you someday. Just like Conrad. She admitted to her feelings for David Clarke during their marriage and because of it, the man wound up in prison for a crime he hadn't committed. He lost his children as well as Victoria, especially since her attempts resulted in his murder. Had he known that Victoria eventually had the guts and evidence to clear David's name? The last thing Conrad wanted was for Victoria to ride off into the sunset with another man. A part of her was certain that would hurt his pride more than taking the fall for the act of terrorism that the Initiative was responsible for. Was it because he loved her? She remembered him telling her a year ago that he hadn't faked falling in love with her, but by the time David was thrown into the situation, it was entirely possible that he'd fallen out. Maybe he just saw her as property at this point.

Staring down at the picture she held firmly in her hand, lost eyes looked over the image of a smiling David Clarke. His arms were wrapped around something as equally far gone; a genuinely happy Victoria Grayson, wearing a smile to match his. The picture was a rarity and she actually forgot it existed for the longest time. She did remember the day though. They were spending it together, trying to get away from their lives. More specifically, David was trying to keep Victoria's mind off of a fight she had with Conrad. Amanda was with Jack Porter and that gave Victoria and David a day to themselves at his house. The two found disposable cameras and like children, neither could resist the urge to use up six rolls of film. And so they snapped pictures around the house and ran outside onto the beach. They took pictures of each other and it was perfectly acceptable because everyone knew they were friends, but she still felt as though they hadn't been fooling anyone when he pulled her close and aimed the camera their way. One thing she could honestly say was that she didn't feel guilty. At the time, she still believed they'd figure out a way to make things right.

The picture had only been developed a couple of days before along with one of the other cameras she took home with her that day. It was funny how you could lose track of something for so long, but she had, only to find it three days ago and have it developed by a friend who handed her the envelopes, telling her that Charlotte would have something nice to look at. She didn't know exactly what that meant, until she found all the pictures of a happy and free David Clarke, and the ones of them together. Maybe it would make Charlotte happy, but it was also bittersweet because the both of them knew how the story ended.

Every single day, Victoria mourned the loss of David Clarke and reminded herself of all the reasons why she hated herself. Hurting that man was her biggest mistake, next to choosing against running away with him when she had the chance. And yet, she imagined what it would have been like if she had left, if the Initiative never played such a dirty game with the Grayson family. Without a doubt, they would have been happy and both Charlotte and Amanda would have been better off. But would Daniel have been a part of her life, or kept away by Conrad? Would their divorce lead to various fights in the years to come whenever they found themselves face to face? Something told her yes, seeing how they fought on a daily basis now, although their reality left the both of them extremely bitter.

Reality had it that David Clarke was dead and Victoria had gotten away after getting divorced. The situation back in the Hamptons with Charlotte was difficult and maybe if she hadn't acted on an impulse and called Conrad, she could have found another way to save herself and her daughter. Maybe it wasn't an impulse at all. Maybe she called Conrad because even though he'd done unspeakably terrible things, he was the only constant in her life. When she fell, he was always the one to catch her. Sure, he'd take a few digs at her once she was standing on her own again, but that didn't erase the fact that he caught her time and time again. In a twisted way, she missed him when she was gone and crazy or not, felt the need to be reunited with him. Returning to Grayson Manor and remarrying Conrad wasn't nearly as heart wrenching as she made it out to be, honestly.

These feelings left her confused. Was she cheating on David or Conrad? Her husband was downstairs in his office, probably with Victoria as the last thing on his mind. And there was David, only accessible through pictures and memories. Placing it down, she stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes as she walked out to the balcony. She looked out toward the beach house in which her beloved David once lived - now occupied by the ever annoying Emily Thorne. The night sky was black, allowing her to see exactly which lights were on. The living room as well as the master bedroom was lit up, although she couldn't care less about what was going on in that house at that moment. All she cared about was what happened in that house nearly two decades ago.

_It's a long, lonesome circle of us coming and staying  
And going our opposite ways  
At least the quiet nights are easier than these sunny empty days  
'Cause at least when I'm sleeping, I can dream of you keeping me safe  
Or of a someday so far that when I asked you, you'd finally stay_

Bottle in hand, he walked into the bedroom and looked around in confusion, remembering Victoria saying that she was going up there. Then, he noticed her standing outside on the balcony. Of course she was looking in the direction of the house that David Clarke once lived in. For the sake of moving his feet, he told himself that it was maybe just a force of habit. Spotting a bunch of papers spread out on the bed, he raised a brow in confusion and walked over to it and felt his heart sink. The entire bed was covered in pictures of her younger self, David Clarke, the beach house he sold to Lydia Davis, the ocean, and of course the illegitimate couple that continued to bring him down to this day. He was only allowed to hold Victoria publicly and even then, she wasn't able to fake a smile close to the one in the picture. David obviously brought out a real smile; a real glow. Every time he tried to man up and show Victoria that he loved her, it backfired. For now, he needed to accept to defeat. Setting the bottle down beside the empty wine glass, he turned his back to Victoria and exited the room, heading for the bedroom across the hall to call it a night and head to bed.

_'Cause as much as you lead, you know that I'll follow  
If today you come running, I know that tomorrow,  
You could walk away from me in a second flat  
But if I ever left you, I'd always come back  
'Cause I'm that kind of woman, and you're that kind of man_

She turned around just in time to watch him walk out of the room and the last thing she expected to feel was guilt. Nonetheless, that was exactly what she felt herself being consumed with. He was once a good husband, but things got in the way. When the Initiative hooked him, she expected him to discover some super powers to save them. It wasn't until now that she was realizing that he was only human.

_''Cause as much as you lead, you know that I'll follow  
If today you come running, I know that tomorrow,  
You could walk away from me in a second flat  
But if I ever left you, I'd always come back  
'Cause I'm that kind of woman, and you're that kind of man_

Not bothering to find the energy to change his clothes, Conrad left his pants on the floor along with his shirt and climbed into the cold bed in his boxers. The door was cracked open in case Victoria called for his help. It wasn't likely, but they were a family that lived and breathed crisis, and so he wanted to be able to protect her if need may be. His back faced the door and he pulled the blankets over his head to block out any light or sound.

He hated this room. The only reason he took it was out of respect for Victoria. She was his wife at the end of the day and so he gave her the nice bedroom. Well, she demanded it, but he didn't argue about it. This room was smaller, but still incredibly spacious, so that wasn't worth complaining about. The truth was that the only memories this room held were that of his being sent there when he and Victoria fought.

Suddenly, the feeling of a hand on his back interrupted his thoughts. Only then did he notice the blankets had been pulled down. Rolling over to face the source, a look of confusion etched his features when he saw Victoria sitting beside him on the bed. "Victoria, what are you doing?" he asked softly.

It was very small, but evident that a smile was begging to pull from the corners of her lips. She found his hand and gave it a gentle tug as she stood back up. "Come on. You don't want to be in here," the brunette's tone was flat, but the fact that she was making an effort didn't go unnoticed. So he got up and allowed her to lead him into the bedroom they once shared. He half expected to get yelled at for barging in there earlier and finding the pictures she left out, since he was used to getting blamed for things that weren't even his fault. Instead, he found the bed cleared off of all pictures and even though he wanted to know where they went, he decided against asking.

She let go of his hand to climb into her side of the bed and turned off the lamp on her nightstand. The only light was that of the moon. Silently, he walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. Neither of them attempted to close the space between them, but this was the biggest step either of them have taken in such a long time.

"Victoria?"

"Yes?"

"Are we going to end up getting divorced again?" the question wasn't as random as an outsider would think. It was actually quite valid.

She wasn't mad. She did think it through for a few moments before mumbling tired. "I'd just end up marrying you a third time."

_'Cause I'm that kind of woman, and you're that kind of man_


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't know whether or not she was supposed to feel relieved or upset when she woke up to find herself alone in the bed that she so graciously shared the night before with Conrad. He hadn't expected it to happen and to be honest, she hadn't either. It was an impulse that she acted on immediately, finding that she actually felt bad that he discovered the pictures laid out on the bed, especially the one that showcased a happier version of herself and David Clarke. Their marriage was never a normal one even in the beginning, but she knew he loved her, at least at one point. It couldn't have been easy to see that she was happy with someone else. He knew about it at the time since Victoria wound up confessing her affair, but he never actually saw them together. He never saw how perfectly they looked next to one another. At the same time, she knew that he believed that he and Victoria looked perfect together as well. And they did. That wasn't something Victoria could take away from their image. But that was simply on the exterior. Moving deeper into their connection would be ugly. Their relationship, to the best of her imagination, would appear as blackened blood.

So while it occurred to her that Conrad could still be upset to this day, she couldn't help but selfishly feel upset that he couldn't even wake her up and thank her for her kindhearted actions. A normal person wouldn't expect a pat on the shoulder for allowing their husband to share a bed with them, but she wasn't normal, nor was their relationship. When she grabbed her phone from the nightstand to check the time, she felt like she was further being proved that he fled. It was only a quarter to seven and considering how he didn't even have to go to Manhattan since he lost his position at Grayson Global to their son, there was no excuse for him to already be out of bed. Yet, he was.

The brunette considered falling back asleep but knew deep down that her body wouldn't go back to rest, so she finally forced herself to throw the blankets off of her and stand. Caffeine was a necessity, but she put it off about thirty minutes so that she can shower and dry her hair. After dressing in a tight red long sleeved dress that was cut above the knee and finding matching heels, she put in the effort of applying mascara and blood colored lipstick. Then heading downstairs, she told herself silently a dozen times that she would keep her mouth shut if she saw Conrad. It seemed like a good enough plan to avoid conflict since it was hardly seven thirty in the morning. It was probably a matter of time before a real and serious problem would arise anyway, seeing how this was Grayson Manor and around it was a moat of other's blood and tears.

Hearing the sound of her husband's voice as she neared the dining room, she half considered turning around and going back upstairs. What she'd done the night prior was so unlike her and she didn't want it to somehow blow up in her face. Most of the things she did with good intentions did just that at some point. But Victoria Grayson was never the type to run away from a problem, plus he probably already heard the sound of her heels clicking on the ground to signal that she was coming. If he suddenly heard them growing quieter, perhaps that would be the cause of an argument anyway. And so she entered the room to find that neither of their children were there. Conrad had a plate of fresh fruit and a cup of coffee, but he ignored it as he spoke on the phone from the head of the table.

Silently, she went to take the pot but before she could, he grabbed a second cup of coffee that was still steaming, and held it out to her. So he was making her cups of coffee now? Was that his form of a 'thank you'? Because she preferred something more verbal, actually. She accepted it anyway and didn't say anything since he was speaking to whomever he had on the line. She simply nodded before walking around to sit opposite of him. Even when it was just the two of them, they had a way of sitting as far away as possible. It was as though they felt too awkward to be close and maybe that was the truth of the matter. Did it really have to be more complicated than that? Their marriage was a very difficult matter. The second one had been forced, although she couldn't pretend that she hadn't told him the night before that if they were to get divorced, that they'd end up marrying again.

"Alright then, I'll see you at noon then," she heard him say, which meant that he was concluding his conversation... which meant that there was a possibility that they would have to speak. Would it be too obvious if she got up and rushed out of the room. "Bye." The answer would be 'yes', and so she stayed seated but managed the world's slowest sip after he put his phone down, just to keep herself busy. "Good morning, Victoria."

Knowing she would have to answer eventually, she pulled the cup from her red-stained lips and placed it down. "Good morning, Conrad. Is there a reason you're up so early? Last I checked, you were unemployed," it was a cruel joke, but that was simply the way they operated.

Picking up his cup without showing an ounce of hurt, he gestured it in her direction as she spoke. "I can say the same for you," neither showed in their expressions that they were amused, but they were. Sometimes they would make comments that went too far, but even then, they never rushed off to cry about it. Their complicated lives left them smirking at things that should never be smirked at. "My little ex low class con artist."

It was a valid argument, although she shrugged and rolled her eyes as though to show that what he said held little to no value. "Oh please. I could have easily talked you into buying the gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe."

"I never said you couldn't," he was smart not to deny it, seeing how she'd sold him a counterfeit painting when they first met. And as though he read her mind, he continued. "Although I must admit that when you sold me that painting, I was far too interested in you to notice anything else."

Together at the same time, a smile pulled from their lips at the compliment that brought on a rather fond memory, when times were easier. It was a sweet moment that she didn't know exactly how to react to. "Even if I was an ugly little thing, I could have gotten by just fine."

"You could have," he admitted, a smile still evident. "But it didn't hurt that you walked into my life, looking as beautiful as you did..." after pausing for a moment, the both of them sipping their coffee as they searched for something to say, Conrad knew he would have to be the one to keep the conversation going or else it would simply die. "Do you remember what you said to me when you found out that I was married?"

A smirk evident despite her best efforts to hide it, she shook her head a single time. "I may need a refresher," she didn't at all, but she did find herself falling comfortably into this conversation. Or more comfortably than usual, rather. When they were able to connect like this, it was fine and feisty. In many ways it was their form of foreplay, though it hardly ever resulted in sex. Their second marriage and the last several months of their first were without.

A knowing smile found his features, although he decided to play along. "I believe it went something like 'Oh?'" he reacted at the instant grin on his wife's face as he tried to imitate her. "'Well it sounds like you need me to take out the trash.'"

They both laughed and Victoria nodded. That was exactly what she said and to this day, she didn't regret it one bit. She left a much bigger impression in Conrad's life. Even if they hurt one another much more, she felt more deserving than his first wife. "I did say that. And evidently, I was right."

Unable to deny it, he nodded. "You were. And then you decided to earn my trust by admitting that the painting was about as useless as-"

"My outfit," she laughed.

"Your outfit," he agreed. "At least you're admitting that I'm not shallow."

She shrugged. "Not then, anyway."

"Touche," he took another sip of his coffee and sat back. "So we're both unemployed," he concluded. "Sort of, anyway. But when I win my seat, you'll be a lone-wolf once again."

"Don't you dare pretend that I haven't done any work for you, Conrad. I've gotten some people on board with you that you ordinary wouldn't have been able to reel in, in a million years," she raised a brow as she spoke. "Or have you forgotten?"

The blue eyed man shook his head. "No, of course not. In fact, I have a meeting today. Just a couple of people I'm collaborating with for my campaign. It would be nice to have my wife by my side."

His form of an invite was not typical, but she knew that it was an extension of kindness from the night prior. Apparently she made a good impression. Not for nothing, he would never forget all of the good she's done for his career. "I may as well," she sighed as though to portray boredom. "My unemployed ass has nothing better to do anyway."

Rising from his chair, Conrad walked over to her and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Great. It's in Manhattan, so we'll leave soon. You're dressed for the occasion," he smiled.

"You're not," she smirked as the man in a suit pulled back to look at her with confusion. She reached out and ran a hand over his blue tie. "You need red so we can match."

A sigh escaped him as he walked around her. "I suppose you're right," he called out as he exited the room. She couldn't help but realize that was the first time in a while they had an entire conversation in which neither threatened to take down the other. And by the smile in his voice that she detected, she knew he was thinking the same thing.


End file.
